


To Have and To Hold

by cumkills



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Denial of Feelings, Dysfunctional Family, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumkills/pseuds/cumkills
Summary: Azula wants to make waves at her brother's wedding. Katara wants to make it through her ex's big day. Together, the pair hatch a mutually beneficial plot to get under Zuko's skin. If they can get along long enough for people to believe they're a couple, their con might just work.
Relationships: Azula/Katara (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 131
Kudos: 592





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thus marks the beginning of my attempt to write more stuff for rarepairs! Hopefully it's as fun to read as it is to write

An alarm clock was no match for yet another sleepless night. Eyes still closed, Katara fumbled around trying to reach the machine’s snooze button.  There were many interesting assumptions one could make about an heiress who never seemed to sleep before 3 AM  . The truth,  however, was much less glamorous.

It had been over a year since Katara had gotten a decent night’s sleep. Stretching, she tried to gather the motivation to get out of bed. Some days it worked.  Other times she would reluctantly trudge to the fridge, grab a few handfuls of something that might pass as nutritional, and slink back under her covers.

Take the moments as they come. That’s what Sokka kept telling her. She would never admit it to him, but she was trying to take his advice. Small victories kept her going.

By the time she talked herself into getting out of bed, there was only a half-hour left to prepare for weekly brunch with her brother  . At least, the meal formerly known as brunch.

She took in her reflection, trying to assess the damage. At one point their weekly meetings had been an excuse to dress up nice and cook a meal together. Now they were more like thinly-veiled wellness checks.  Every week felt like she was drawing closer to the day he showed up with a group of their friends for an intervention.

After a few attempts at running a comb through her hair, Katara gave up. It was too much work and would take well over an hour to completely untangle. Today’s goal, she told herself, was to at least look like she tried.  Tucking her stained tee into a pair of cashmere pajama pants, she threw on a light blue floral robe in an attempt at stylish comfort. At least it was better than last week’s tattered cartoon character boxers.

The rest of the house, much like her hair, needed more work than she had time for. In half an hour the most she could manage was hiding the most shameful parts of the mess. Her brother didn’t need to know how bad things were getting.

There was a knock at the door before she could confront the dishes piled in the kitchen. Sighing, she went to answer the door. He’d seen the house in worse conditions than this.

“Your _amazing_ brother has acquired the bakery’s last two cinnamon rolls!” He grinned triumphantly, presenting her with a box that was still faintly warm.

“My hero,” she said, giving her brother a grateful smile as she closed the door behind him.

Cinnamon rolls had been one of their mother’s favorite pastries. After her death, they became somewhat of a household comfort food. They were Sokka’s way of helping when he didn’t know what to say. She’d eaten a lot of cinnamon rolls lately.

“Being cooped up like this isn’t helping,” Sokka sighed when he saw the state of the kitchen.

“I know.” Her response was terser than she intended.

There was a wet thud as he disposed of a used coffee filter. She placed the box on the table, careful to avoid the pile of unsorted mail, and set out to find two clean plates.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to nag,” he paused, turning the coffee grinder on and off again, “but it’s been a year. That’s a long time to spend inside.”

“I was starting to take small steps. Walking around the block. Doing some work in the front yard. But then—”

Her eyes darted to a gilded envelope at the top of her mail collection.

“Dad wanted me to try talking you into going.”

It was a statement of sympathy. Their father was more concerned with diplomacy than petty socialite drama.

“Does it sound like he’ll try forcing me to go if I refuse?” Katara’s face was fixed in concentration as she transferred each roll to a plate.

“No, but he’s worried about the backlash. You snubbing a Fire Nation wedding… _This_ wedding. The media will have a field day.”

The cinnamon roll in her hand fell sideways on to the plate. Thinking about attention from the tabloids always made her nervous.  After the engagement was announced she’d stopped leaving the house for fear of someone wanting a statement from her.

“That one’s yours,” she frowned at her brother.

“Yeah, I guess I deserve that.” Sokka approached the table with two mugs for their coffee.

“What does dad expect me to do? Show up and act thrilled to be at the wedding of my ex and the woman he left me for?”

Sokka nodded as he poured more sugar into his coffee than Katara could stomach.

“Something about being the bigger person,  I think? Which we both know is unreasonable to ask of you in the best situations.”

Katara kicked his shin in retribution, sending a spray of sugar across the table. They laughed for a moment before her face grew serious.

“There’s no justice, Sokka. And I don’t know how to deal with that. He leaves me for her, and somehow the tabloids make me the villain while he does nothing about it. Now suddenly a year later I’m supposed to, what? Smile politely in the crowd like it’s water under the bridge? He’s getting married while I’m… this.”

She gestured to the unwashed dishes stacked beside the sink.

With the media’s rising criticism of her after the breakup, Zuko’s admirers had grown increasingly hostile toward her.  Less than a week after the end of her relationship, she was unable to leave the house without being mobbed by photographers and journalists who wanted a statement.  The public had little sympathy for her devastation after the end of a three-year relationship .

“Think of it this way,” Sokka tore a piece off his cinnamon roll, “You have some fun, order some room service. Get the vacation you deserve after everything that’s happened. And at the end of it, your ex-boyfriend is stuck footing the bill. Isn’t _that_ better revenge than staying at home in your pajamas?”

Katara smiled at the idea of Zuko receiving a six-digit bill in her name.  The royal family was renting a high-end resort for the occasion, and all diplomatic guests were receiving rooms and meals free of charge during their four-day stay . It was a way for the Fire Lord to flaunt his excessive wealth.

“You’re a horrible best man, you know.”

Sokka shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m an opportunist. You should have seen the gift basket I got.”

The tension between their families had been high since the breakup. Sokka’s inclusion in the wedding party was an olive branch their father gave him no choice but to accept. Because the matter was such a sore subject for Katara, she  was afforded  a bit more leeway. The last thing her father wanted was an incident at a potential ally’s wedding.

“Tell dad I’ll think about it,” Katara sighed. “But I’m not making any promises. I  just  want everything to be as painless as possible.”


	2. The Price of Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toph gets a steamed pork bun while Katara gets more than she bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains a brief moment of a dude being kind of a creep. If you wanna skip it, just ctrl+F "Azula" when he shows up.

“Going with Jet to the wedding?” Katara mused as she reached out to feel a scarf hanging on a nearby display. “That’s an interesting choice.”

The large sunglasses obscuring her face made it difficult to discern the fabric’s color palette, but the fabric was soft. 

“It’s not… like that,” Suki protested.

Katara released the scarf, and they moved on to the next stall. She was glad Suki had talked her into going to the weekend market. If she was going to be travel-ready in a month, she would need to get used to going out again. Luckily, the weather was nice enough that her wide-brimmed hat and large sunglasses didn’t look out of place.

“Then what _is_ it like?”

“They’re fucking,” Toph explained, much to Suki’s embarrassment.

“No!” Katara cried, grinning. 

Moving on from the clothing stalls, the trio made their way to the food vendors.

“Okay, _maybe_ ,” Suki threw her hands up in surrender. “But it’s not, like… serious or anything. We’re going as friends.”

“Oh, of course,” Katara rolled her eyes.

“He bought her a dress,” Toph said, adding fuel to the fire of Katara’s suspicion. “It feels expensive.”

“Toph!” Suki laughed at her friend’s teasing. “You’re the worst roommate ever!”

“So let me get this straight,” Katara paused in the middle of the path, “A famous athlete is taking you to the royal wedding as his plus one and buying you fancy clothes… completely platonically?”

“It’s highly suspicious,” Toph agreed.

“I’m warning you, Toph,” Suki sighed, “if you keep egging her on I’m not buying you any pork buns.”

“I recant my statement, your honor. Very normal. Not even a little bit suspicious.”

It was nice to be out with her friends again. Katara smiled to herself as she watched the two interact. Every time Suki and Toph tried to invite her out after the breakup, she’d come up with an excuse to stay home. Now, at her favorite market for the first time in over a year, she was glad they hadn’t given up on her.

“You guys go ahead and get a spot in line,” Katara offered. “I’ll find somewhere for us to sit.”

In a small way, she was pushing her own boundaries. Walking alone through the crowded plaza made her nervous, but she wanted to prove to herself that she could do it. Everyone around her was so busy with their own lives that they barely glanced at the woman passing by. Feeling small and unseen was a relief after her time in the tabloids’ glaring spotlight.

Feeling bold, she removed her sunglasses after sitting down at an empty table. The bridge of her nose was beginning to ache from their weight after wearing them all day, and no one seemed to be paying her any attention. Maybe she would try going—

“Hi there.” A man appeared in front of her. Without waiting for an invitation or acknowledgement, he sat down opposite Katara. “How’s it going?”

“Uh…”

Digging her nails into the palm of her hand, she searched for Suki and Toph in the crowd. The man didn’t seem to notice her discomfort.

“You’re much too beautiful to be sitting here alone, so I thought I—”

“My friends are ordering,” Katara said with a polite smile, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave.

He stared at her for a moment without responding, as if trying to figure something out.

“Have I seen you before somewhere?”

Nausea flooded Katara’s body. Eyes darting from Suki’s place in line to the man in front of her, she put her sunglasses back on.

“No, but I get that a lot.”

She hoped her discomfort would be enough to dissuade him, but he was either oblivious or chose to ignore it.

“No… you’re that girl the prince was dating.”

“I should go.” Katara stood to leave, hoping her legs wouldn’t betray her.

Before she had a chance to flee, the man caught her wrist.

“Wait—” He reached into his bag for something. “I’m a reporter—”

Katara tore herself away without letting him finish his sentence. Of all the creeps in the plaza, she had to be approached by the reporter.

At that point, he was cutting off her path to Suki and Toph. She had no choice but to flee in the opposite direction. Heart pounding in her chest, she wove through the crowd in the hopes of escaping him. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to understand that running away meant she didn’t want to be interviewed.

“Miss, please, I only want…”

His words were drowned out by the sound of her feet hitting the pavement as she ran. Spotting an opening between the tables, she turned and ducked into a nearby alley. She only stopped running when her body collided with someone walking the opposite direction.

“OW! What the fuck—”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry—”

Both people stopped in their tracks. This was the last thing Katara needed right now. She removed her sunglasses and faced the person she’d run into.

“Can’t say I expected to run into you here.”

“Look, Azula,” Katara rolled her eyes, “some creep is following me so can you not be horrible for like two seconds?”

Azula considered Katara’s request for a moment.

“No.”

“No?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, so—”

“Miss?” The reporters calls grew nearer to where Katara was hiding.

The pair exchanged glances before Azula pushed Katara’s body into the shadows of the building and clamped her hand over Katara’s mouth.

“Shh,” Azula chided when Katara gave a muffled protest.

Having her mouth covered by Azula was… oddly enjoyable. Her pulse was already racing, but looking at Azula, face fixed in concentration as she waited for the threat to pass, certainly wasn’t helping. This was different than the Azula she’d seen in her time dating Zuko.

When they were certain the man was gone, Azula removed her hand from Katara’s mouth.

“Did you really need to do that?”

“Definitely,” Azula replied with a cocky grin, “You talk too much.”

The threat was gone, but neither of them moved. Katara felt oddly reluctant to leave. Something about the way Azula looked at her made her curious. Possibly even excited.

“I…”

Before Azula could say whatever was on her mind, they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming their way.

“Okay, I parked—” Zuko froze when he saw the scene in front of him. “Is that… Katara?”

“Zuzu!” Azula cried with mock surprise. “You found a spot already?”

Still trapped between Azula and the wall, Katara said nothing. She didn’t know what to say. Everything she’d dreamt of telling him was clouded by the warmth of his sister’s body against hers. His blatant dissatisfaction only added to Katara’s budding arousal. It was a small revenge for catching him with Mai.

“Yeah, I got luck—” He started to reply, then realized he was getting off track. “Wait, no. Don’t change the subject. What the _fuck_ are you doing with my _sister_ , Katara?”

A burst of anger flashed through Katara as she looked at her ex-boyfriend. His visible discomfort fueled her newfound confidence. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around Azula’s waist, pulling her body closer.

“What does it look like?”

A wicked smile spread across Azula’s face as she looked at Katara. Something horrible was about to happen.

“It’s rude to interrupt,” Azula pouted at her brother, leaning into Katara’s body.

Before she could process the movement, Azula’s lips were pressed against hers. And she was kissing Azula back. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was to spite Zuko. Maybe it was the way the feeling of Azula’s soft lips against hers made her heart pound in her chest…

“Can’t you at least go somewhere a little more… private?” Zuko demanded, face bright red with discomfort. 

They parted long enough for Katara to meet Zuko with an icy stare.

“No, but you can leave.”

Azula chuckled at the blatant disdain in Katara’s voice. The sound only worsened Katara’s surprising wetness.

“I’ll catch up with you when I’m done.”

“What? I— That—”

Ignoring his protests, Katara returned to the soft comfort of Azula’s lips. Desperate hands clung to Azula’s body as she gently cupped Katara’s jaw in her hand. Had Katara been more alert, she would have noticed the damp, nervous sweat of Azula’s palm. The pair continued for a few moments longer than necessary before separating.

“I think he’s gone,” Azula laughed, avoiding Katara’s gaze. 

Azula’s hips were still pressed against Katara’s, pinning her to the wall. Breathing shakily, she realized how much more she wanted. They only stopped because Azula pulled back.

“I—ah, I’m sorry,” Katara stammered, taking Azula’s aversion for discomfort. “Looking at him… I panicked.”

The smile on Azula’s face only made her feel worse. She was laughing at Katara’s pain. There was no undoing whatever had just happened between them. The kiss had been enjoyable, but worry was starting to replace her dwindling excitement. It was a nice kiss. But Azula was not a nice person. Somehow, in some way, this would come back to haunt her.

“That was an interesting first response.”

The princess stepped back, giving Katara a break the jasmine perfume flooding her nostrils.

“Shut up!” Katara felt her face grow warm. “You’re the one who kissed me!”

“First. I kissed you _first_. Anything after that was your doing.”

She’d been wrong. Whatever she thought she felt earlier, clearly it was just nerves. Azula was impossible to be around. The princess only made her heart race when they were arguing.

“Whatever, Azula,” Katara rolled her eyes. “Thank you for… whatever brief moment of humanity compelled you to help me. But also: fuck you.”

Turning away so Azula couldn’t see her face, she stormed off back in the direction of her friends.

“Is that a promise?” Azula called after her.

Katara pretended to not hear her final words. She hated Azula. Anything else she mistook for feelings was probably the result of nervousness or adrenaline. There was no room in her heart for her ex’s younger sister. And she _definitely_ wasn’t going to spend a week masturbating to the way Azula’s body felt pressed against hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly Katara's right and nothing that happened in this chapter will be relevant later /sarcasm


	3. So Much For The Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara can't escape the aftermath of running into Azula; Azula can't escape the aftermath of her brother's failed relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 no longer counts hits from people who aren't logged in, so if you like the fic pls consider leaving a comment or kudos so I know you're out there!

It had been two days since she ran into Azula and Zuko at the market. Between the reporter and Zuko, Katara was ready to stay home for the next six months. She didn’t know what she was going to do about the wedding. Backing out after telling her father she was going wouldn’t end well, but she had no idea how she was going to face herself to make it there.

With a sigh, she scrolled through the airline listings displayed on her laptop. Flying first class was expensive, but the possibility of being recognized and harassed in coach was more stress than she needed. And then there were the dress costs…

This was ridiculous. Even though she had the money, there were better things to spend it on than Zuko’s wedding. Suddenly having to drop thousands of dollars on an event she didn’t want to attend was ruining months of careful budgeting. 

“Maybe I’ll just… fake my death,” Katara muttered to herself. “That’s got to be easier.”

A sudden knock at the front door made her jump. Sokka was busy, and Suki and Toph knew better than to come over unannounced. Chewing on her bottom lip, she got up from the couch and made her way to the door.

“Or maybe I’ll just actually get murdered. That works too.”

Relief quickly turned into annoyance when she saw Azula on the other side of the door’s peephole. She didn’t know how she even knew where she lived. Taking a deep breath and bracing herself for the worst, she opened the door.

“I assume I’m not interrupting anything?” The princess asked with a taunting smile when she saw Katara’s pajamas.

Katara quickly crossed her arms, covering an illustrated map on her shirt of the Southern Water Tribe that read ‘stay cool’. Her brother’s love of their cheesy tourist shirts had become a birthday gag gift over the years. Somehow Azula seeing her in one felt more mortifying than being caught in her underwear.

Not that she was thinking about the white hot embarrassment of Azula’s eyes scanning her exposed body, watching the way her lips curled into that beautifully cruel smile. Feeling the warmth pool in her lower stomach and hoping Azula didn’t notice…

“What do you want, Azula?” Katara rolled her eyes, trying to ignore whatever the fuck that just was.

“You should invite me inside.”

She peered over Katara’s shoulder at the shadowy mess. 

“Whatever.”

Katara moved to the side so Azula could enter. The smell of her perfume would have garnered a much different reaction from her if she wasn’t so annoyed with her uninvited guest. Lucky for Azula, Katara was too worried about someone noticing her royal visitor to argue with her in the doorway.

“The living room is this way,” Katara said, rushing ahead so she could close the laptop she’d left open on the coffee table.

Watching Azula make herself comfortable in Katara’s home only annoyed her more. After being forced to move as the harassment escalated, she never thought she would see someone from Zuko’s family in her house again. This was supposed to be her sanctuary.

“I know it’s a bit rude to show up like this,” Azula said from her spot on the couch, “but I had a feeling you wouldn’t answer if I called.”

That much was right. Katara had blocked Azula’s number right before the breakup in a moment of petty frustration. After Zuko left her, Katara kept her number blocked because she assumed Azula would have something cruel to say to her.

“Well can I… get you anything?” Katara asked through gritted teeth. 

Azula grinned at her, no doubt gloating at Katara’s having to wait on her in her own home. Not showing her the proper hospitality, however, would only reflect poorly on Katara’s upbringing. She had to be the picture of grace, even with someone like Azula.

“I’ll…” She paused, rethinking whatever she was about to say. “Some water, maybe?”

“Of course, your _majesty_.”

The words were polite, but her tone dripped venom. She hurried to fill a glass of water in the kitchen, reluctant to leave Azula alone in her home for too long. When she returned, Azula was inspecting a throw pillow on the couch.

“Here,” Katara set the glass down on the tabletop, earning her a frown from Azula.

“No coasters? Interesting.”

“So what’s so important that you had to barge into my home?”

Katara sank into an armchair across from Azula’s spot on the couch.

“I thought we could discuss our run-in at the market the other day,” Azula leaned back into the seat’s cushion, resting her right foot on her left knee.

“Oh?”

Katara felt her stomach pitch. This was it. Azula was here to blackmail her. She wondered what the princess’s demands would be.

“Apparently my father has gotten wind of that little joke we played on Zuko,” She stopped to take a drink from the glass Katara handed her, “and now we have a small problem on our hands.”

Katara sighed. There were nothing but problems when it came to the royal family. 

“How bad is it?”

Azula grimaced.

“He thinks we’re… _together_.”

A laugh escaped Katara’s lips before she could stop herself.

“You’re fucking with me. This is a joke, right?”

“I don’t see what would be funny about it,” Azula frowned.

The room was silent for a moment as she processed Azula’s words. Fire Lord Ozai never hid his disdain for the small-time Water Tribe heiress, even when she was dating Zuko. Katara was still convinced he’d played a role in Zuko ad Mai’s reunion. The thought of him talking about her again made her hands tremble.

“So you told him there’s nothing going on, _right_?”

“I… _could_ do that,” Azula set her glass down on the coffee table. “ _Or_ we can have some fun with it.”

Katara couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“No, Azula. No fun. You don’t LIE to your family.”

“Since when were you such a stick in the mud?” Azula pouted. “I feel like you used to be more fun.”

“You called me killjoy Katara when we were teenagers.”

“Way to hang on to the past. Just hear me out.”

“No.” 

“Only for the wedding.”

“I’m not—”

“It’ll be great.”

Katara glared at Azula.

“What part of being stuck spending my entire trip with you for your brother’s stupid fucking wedding did you think would appeal to me, Azula?”

“Wow,” Azula gave an amused laugh, “tell me how you really feel.”

“I feel,” Katara took a deep breath, trying to hide the tears of frustration welling in her eyes, “like only an asshole would invite his ex to his wedding and then expect her to pay for any of it.”

“And that’s why my plan is perfect!” Azula grinned. Katara wasn’t sure if she was pretending not to see her hurt, or simply ignoring it in favor of her own excitement. “Come with me and you’ll get the best lodging _and_ a ride in our private jet.”

The offer sounded good, but Katara was skeptical. First Azula helped her at the market, now this. There had to be something else motivating her.

“So what do you get out of it?”

“ _Me_?” Azula pretended to be shocked. “Is it too much to believe I’m offering this as an olive branch?”

“Yes, it is.”

Azula rolled her eyes. 

“This whole wedding thing… it’s getting old. I’m _bored_. Everyone’s attention is on Zuko all the time. It would be fun to shake him up a little bit. And seeing us together all week—”

“A week?” Katara frowned. “That’s not what the invitation said.”

“My family’s flying out early, then everyone in the wedding party is showing up a few days later so we can celebrate before the actual wedding.” She sounded annoyed, as if this was something Katara should already know. 

Spending a few days on Azula’s arm was one thing. Longer than that, however, felt like an impossible task. She’d never spent that long with the royal family when she was dating Zuko, and for good reason.

“No offense, Azula—”  
“That’s a first.”  
“—but your family’s a little bit…”

“Annoying?” Azula offered. “Dysfunctional?”

“Tiring.”

“I know,” Azula said with a dry laugh. “Believe me, _that_ I understand.”

“So why would I want to be part of that?” Katara leaned against the arm of her seat. “That’s the one thing I was happy to leave behind when Zuko and I broke up.”

The princess sat forward with a conspiring smile. 

“We’ll get the vacation home to ourselves. Without Zuko and Mai. Or my father. It’s the one place you don’t have to worry about running into anyone.”

That drew her interest more than anything else Azula said. Without Azula, she would be at the mercy of whatever terrible hotel room Ozai could get away with sticking her in. 

“You’re saying total privacy?”

Azula nodded.

“As long as we can survive staying in the same house together.”

It was a challenge. For over a decade the pair had been at each other’s throats. Trying to get along for a week was no small feat, but a private vacation home on Ember Island might make the truce worth it. 

“I’m not saying I’m in, but what would this arrangement entail exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Azula shrugged. “We just… hold hands at the rehearsal dinner or whatever? Try not to kill each other before the wedding?”

“We won’t have to kiss or anything, right?”

She immediately regretted bringing it up. After leaving the market, her plan had been to pretend it never happened.

Azula flashed a flirtatious grin at her.

“Why? Do you want me to kiss you again?”

Agreeing to pretend to date was a bad idea. Katara felt sick. She had no idea how the two of them were supposed to get along for an extended period of time.

When Azula saw the look on Katara’s face, she backtracked.

“It’s not _real_ , Katara. The worst we’ll have to do is tolerate each other.”

Katara took a deep breath in an attempt at soothing her anxiety. She needed this vacation. After everything Zuko had put her through, she deserved this opportunity to enjoy herself at his expense.

“I don’t know, Azula,” Katara replied with mock concern. “Pretending to care about my feelings for a week sounds like a lot of work, especially for you.”

An emotion Katara didn’t understand flashed through Azula’s features. They were even, but she couldn’t help feel a little bit guilty about it.

“So, uh, what next?” Katara changed the subject, tugging on the hem of her shirt. 

Azula’s face brightened. 

“I was thinking fake date!” She paused looking around the room. “Since clearly some time out of the house would be good for you.”

“Oh. Um. After that guy at the market I’m not really sure…”

“ _Really_ , Katara,” Azula rolled her eyes. “Do you think I don’t know how to go out without drawing the public eye?”

She looked at the woman sitting in front of her in a crop top, fitted jeans, and stiletto heels.

“Pretty much.”

“It’ll be _fine_. And if anyone bothers us, I’ll just have them killed.” 

“Azula!”

“It’s a joke, Katara. Legally we aren’t allowed to execute people without a trial now.”

“That’s… not very comforting.”

“Listen to me,” Azula moved forward in her seat, reaching out to Katara’s arm. “Just get dressed up. I’ll take care of planning security. All you have to do is enjoy yourself and pose for some pictures that I can throw in Zuko’s face.”

“I guess that sounds okay.” Katara agreed reluctantly.

As much as Azula was saying it to be mean, she was right. If Katara was going to travel to an island resort for Zuko’s wedding, she would need to be comfortable going places. At least staying by Azula’s side would grant her a bit more protection.

If she was going to fake-date the princess of the Fire Nation, she would probably need to unblock her phone number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally... the fake dating can commence. Also, the Southern Water Tribe has a thriving tourist industry not because of the number of visitors they get, but because Sokka loves giving Water Tribe souvenirs to people as gifts.


	4. The Date (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula and Katara test their compatibility and each others' patience.

“What do you mean this is the place?”

The car was parked, but Katara made no effort to unbuckle her seatbelt. Making the trip in Azula’s car to the next town over was already annoying enough. Sitting in the parking lot of their destination, she was starting to have serious doubts about going to Zuko’s wedding together.

“Just try it, okay?” Azula paused to apply lip gloss in her rearview mirror. “I’ve been here before. It’s nice.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe,” Katara scoffed, crossing her arms.

Azula slammed the back of her head against the seat’s headrest, staring out the windshield. 

“Why can’t you just trust me?”

“Well for starters,” Katara gestured from the navy cocktail dress she was wearing to Azula’s baggy jeans, “you lied to me about what to wear.”

“You were in your pajamas when we talked at your house!” Azula replied defensively. “When I told you to dress up I just meant… I don’t know, real pants?”

She got out of the car before Katara could respond, making her way to Katara’s side. Katara was half-tempted to lock her out of the car but reluctantly allowed her to open the door. 

“Look, you wanted privacy. I rented an entire room. It might not be what you were expecting, but give it a chance.”

Looking up at Azula, Katara felt her willpower being to fade. This was their trial run. If they wouldn’t get through a few hours together, no one would believe they were supposed to be dating. Compromise was necessary for their plan to work. 

“Fine,” Katara grumbled, unbuckling her seatbelt. 

“It’s just painting ceramics! Don’t be such a killjoy.”

Katara glared at her as she got out of the car. The smile on Azula’s face told her she definitely remembered the nickname she’d given Katara when they were teens. She slammed the car door a bit harder than necessary before stepping onto the curb. 

“Just because this is a date doesn’t mean I have to enjoy being here.”

“But you will,” Azula grinned, reaching for the front door.

Before Katara could respond, Azula was already directing her attention to a counter at the back of the room where a woman with long, black hair and impressively thick eyeliner sat at a computer.

“Hey June!” Azula called with a wave. “Miss me?”

The woman’s eyes darted from Azula to Katara. Something reminiscent of interest shone through her otherwise dour expression.

“This a date?”

Katara opened her mouth to deny it, then realized they were supposed to practice being a believable couple. 

“Something like that,” Azula answered for her.

June smiled at Katara, clearly finding her discomfort amusing.

“Don’t worry. I’m just here to make sure everyone behaves.” She shot a glance at Azula. “Most of the time, at least. Follow me.”

Without waiting for them to cross the floor, June headed toward the back. Aside from a single bathroom and the kiln room, their reserved room was completely isolated from the rest of the store. Azula was right. They were certain to have enough privacy here. That also meant, however, the pair would be completely alone.

When Katara saw the room intended for them, her opinion of Azula’s location quickly changed. The VIP room Azula reserved for their date was clearly intended for children’s birthday parties. Hand-painted balloons scrawled on bright yellow walls mocked Katara in her fancy cocktail dress. Looking at her surroundings, Katara had a hard time believing Azula didn’t set her up.

“Azula…” Katara started when June returned to her post. 

“I know,” Azula sighed, purse crinkling against the picnic table’s plastic tablecloth as she set it down, “but it’s private. No one can see us from the sidewalk, and we can close the door.”

“Ah.”

Of course the princess of the Fire Nation would find their surroundings just as demeaning. It was going to take time for Katara to get used to working with Azula, but she knew she needed to give her the benefit of the doubt. They needed to trust each other if they were going to make a believable couple.

“Come on,” Azula stretched, the fabric of her shirt revealing the smallest bit of stomach. “Hang up your jacket and you can go figure out what you want to paint.”

* * *

Shelves of ceramics towered over Katara. The number of options to choose from was overwhelming. From useful dishes to small trinkets, she had no idea how she was supposed to narrow down her favorite. Every time she thought she found one she liked, she spotted another that had more potential.

“What are you doing?” Azula appeared at her side with something small and round in her hand. 

“I’m just… weighing my options.”

Katara could practically feel the eyeball that came with Azula’s scoff.

“Of course you would find a way to overthink having fun.”

“But it won’t be fun if I change my mind halfway through painting!” Katara responded with a small frown.

She picked up a small bottle with a slot in it for coins, then returned it to the shelf when she realized she never had much spare change.

“Then you just paint something different next time.”

Chewing the inside of her lip, she turned to Azula.

“What did you pick?”

A pink flush spread across Azula’s cheeks as she held up a ceramic penguin. It was difficult for Katara to hide her surprise. She would have assumed Azula was above decorating meaningless trinkets.

“I always choose this one,” Azula confessed, looking down at the floor. 

“Hm,” Katara looked from Azula to the shelves. There was a ceramic she’d been considering, but was worried Azula would say something about it. “I guess I’ll choose this one then.”

Her fingers wrapped around the neck of a stone dragon sitting on the second shelf. Holding it in her hands, she knew she was making the right choice. Everything else she’d looked at was her trying to force herself to find something else.

“See,” Azula smiled, “you don’t have to make things so difficult all the time.”

Ignoring Azula, Katara walked toward the opposite side of the room to make her paint selection.

* * *

“Just two colors? Really?” Azula remarked as she joined Katara at the table.

Unlike Katara’s limited palette, Azula had chosen an array of pastels. Katara let out a sigh. Despite their small moment earlier, Azula was back to trying to show her up. 

“Did you really need to choose so many paints?” Katara countered, layering olive green paint on the dragon’s wings. “That’s a lot of materials to waste.”

“Maybe I just see more potential in things than you do.”

“I’m sorry, _Your Highness_ ,” Katara snapped, earning an annoyed scowl from Azula at the use of her formal title, “I didn’t realize I wasn’t following the rules! Are you going to report me to your father?”

A bright, burning shame filled Katara’s body. She knew it was wrong before the words had left her mouth. It wasn’t Azula’s fault she was stressed about the wedding. Personal feeling aside, Azula was one of the few people who understood the position she was in. 

June appeared in the doorway with a flat cardboard box before either person could respond to Katara’s words. The smell of pizza filled the room, eliciting a large growl from Katara’s stomach. Assuming they were going to a restaurant of some sort, Katara hadn’t eaten since that afternoon.

“Woah, looks like I got here right on time,” June said as she placed the pizza on the table. “It’s fucking _tense_ in here.”

Katara stared at her dragon, painting over the same spot she’d already worked on.

“Thanks June,” Azula gave her a weak smile. “How’s Nala?”

Reaching into the box, June retrieved her own slice of pizza.

“I haven’t paid for my weed since I trained her to sniff out when people have it.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah…” June replied with a mouthful of pizza. “Anyways, I’ll let you guys get back to whatever you’re arguing about.”

It was no surprise to Katara that June and Azula got along. Now alone with the consequences of her actions, she struggled to think of some way to apologize. After the wedding, they could go back to arguing. They would have to call a ceasefire until then.

Standing, Azula retrieved a slice of pizza from the box. 

“Here.”

She held the slice out to Katara. Too ashamed to look Azula in the eye, she took the warm pizza.

“Don’t touch the ceramic until you wash your hands. The oil from the pizza fucks up the paint.”

“Thanks.”

There were no words that could make up for the guilt of referencing Ozai. Katara didn’t know how Azula’s relationship with him was, but from Zuko she knew he wasn’t exactly a loving father. The royal family as a whole was a thorn in Katara’s side, but that didn’t mean they all saw eye to eye.

“I’m assuming Zuko told you how he got his scar?” Azula finally said when they were halfway through their silent meal.

“I know the gist,” Katara nodded.

“Then I need you to understand something,” Azula turned to face her. “He was willing to do that to his only son simply for questioning his judgment. How do you think he would react if he found out a child _not_ in line for the throne intentionally embarrassed the family?”

“I… I’m sorry. I never thought about what it might be like living with him.”

“If we’re going to do this, it has to be airtight. It’s a fun vacation if it plays out right. But if we fuck up? Both of us will have hell to pay.”

“Then why bother?” Katara put her slice of pizza down on a plate. “This was your idea. Why risk his wrath for something so petty?”

Azula considered her question for a moment.

“Because the wedding will be worse than that if either of us accepts the way my father treats us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was fun and lighthearted! Now there's only one more chapter standing in the way of the week-long wedding fiasco.
> 
> PS. Thanks to everyone who's been commenting! I don't always know how to reply, but I read them all.


	5. The Date (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and Azula learn to work together.

Things between the two of them calmed down a bit after they finished their pizza. It wasn’t the evening out Katara expected, but she was starting to understand the appeal. Reluctantly, she could feel herself growing to enjoy their time together.

“What are you doing?” she asked, side-eyeing Azula.

“Whatever do you mean?” Azula responded from the corner of the room.

“You’re taking pictures.”

“See, you didn't need to ask. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Katara wondered if their entire trip would be filled with Azula refusing to answer basic questions. 

“ _Why_ are you doing it, though?”

“Blackmail,” Azula shrugged. Noting the distressed look on Katara’s face, she backtracked. “I need pictures to post— nowhere public of course! Just on my Instagram story limited to family. Where Zuko and my father will see it.”

Pocketing her phone, she returned to her seat. The penguin Azula selected had its base coat finished, but she insisted it was nowhere near complete. With an ivory stomach and soft pink back, it seemed uncharacteristic of the princess who was almost always clad in shades of black and maroon. There was something admittedly attractive about the way Azula focused on her work. Phone in hand, Katara began taking her own pictures.

“What are you doing?” Azula’s voice was tense with concentration as she painted what appeared to be tree branches along the side of the penguin’s stomach.

“Nothing,” Katara said as she took another. The serious look on Azula’s face as she painted something so whimsical made Katara feel something she didn’t want to evaluate. “Don’t look so stern, you’re ruining my pictures.”

Azula put her paintbrush down and met Katara’s smile with her cold gaze.

“Why do _you_ need pictures of _me_?”

“Oh, uh. Well… They’ll expect us to have pictures of each other!” Katara lied. “Wouldn’t it be weird if we’d been dating all this time but had no pictures of each other? Plus now I can blackmail you, too.”

As usual, there was no reading Azula. Hopefully she hadn’t taken the blackmail joke seriously. 

“We should probably take some together, right?” Azula replied after sitting silently just long enough to make Katara begin to worry. “So it’s not weird.”

“Yeah, probably.”

The idea of taking pictures together made Katara nervous. Sitting so close to Azula… Perfume once again overwhelming her senses…

“So I guess let’s… do that then?”

They both stared at each other for a moment, neither sure how to navigate the situation. In the ten years they’d known each other, Katara wasn’t sure they’d ever been in a group picture together. One of them usually stormed off before the actual picture was taken.

Scooting together awkwardly, they struggled to find a pose. The initial result made them looked like strangers who were asked to take a picture together. Katara tried to tell herself it would get easier as they acclimated to each other.

“Ah— Sorry!”

For a moment Katara was so focused on the phone in Azula’s hand that she forgot the bench they were seated on didn’t have a back. Panicking, her hand had grasped the thing closest to her: Azula’s waist. She was mortified.

“Leave it,” Azula stopped her before she could lift her hand. “We’re supposed to be _dating_. It helps sell the picture.”

“O-okay.”

Katara, still shaken from her near-fall, could feel her annoyance growing again. She’s almost cracked her head open on the floor, but Azula was more concerned with the picture. Looking into the camera, Azula gave an exasperated sigh.

“You’re making it look like I kidnapped you.”

Her words extinguished the small flame of compliance that Katara was struggling to keep alive. They were both too strong-minded to cooperate with each other.

“Is this better?”

Bringing her free hand to the side of Azula’s face, she pulled her closer and pressed a kiss into her cheek. It was a small retribution for Azula kissing her in front of Zuko. The phone camera’s shutter snapped, immortalizing the moment.

“I think that works,” Azula replied, voice suddenly much softer.

Blush rising to the surface of her cheeks, Katara removed her hand and lips from Azula’s face. The hand at her waist, however, hovered slightly. Azula pissed her off to no end, but she was struggling to keep her distance. 

“Problem solved,” Katara offered a weak smile.

“Yeah…”

Both were locked on to the other’s gaze, unwilling to break it but unsure what to do next. Katara wondered if she should apologize for her impulsive decision. Instead of any tenderness, Azula’s eyes were filled with something darker. She almost looked sad.

On the table, Katara’s phone buzzed with an alert. The sound brought both of them crashing down to reality. Moving away from Azula to check her phone, Katara saw a message from Suki. There was an image attached.

“Why does Suki have a picture of me painting?”

She held out her phone, hand trembling slightly. Trusting Azula was already coming back to bite her in the ass.

“What?” Azula looked at the image on Katara’s phone. Her seemingly genuine confusion made Katara feel slightly better. 

Katara tried her best not to hover as Azula opened something on her phone.

“Fucking Ty Lee!” Azula rolled her eyes. “She must have sent Suki a screenshot.”

“So our friends are talking about us?”

The sudden jolt of fear left as quickly as it had arrived. Suki and Ty Lee had been friends for years. They would sometimes gossip among themselves, but Katara knew both could be trusted around the press. Although it was a bit nerve-wracking to know their friends were talking about them.

“I’ll talk to Ty Lee about it,” Azula said, nervously adjusting her bun.

“Should we tell them it’s fake?”

She hadn’t spoken to Suki or Toph about their arrangement yet. As much as she loved her friends, she wanted to avoid their reaction to seeing her and Azula together for as long as possible. Real or fake, the arrangement would make waves.

“Do you trust them after half a bottle of champagne?”

It was a good question, but Katara wasn’t sure of the answer. Keeping secrets seemed like a lot. But it would also protect her friendships from fights over accidentally revealed plans.

“It’s better that way, right?”

Azula nodded, then, after some silence, looked at Katara.

“Did you really think I’d betray you so easily?”

The pain in Azula’s voice made Katara’s cheeks red with guilt. It was too soon to fuck up after having a conversation about trusting each other.

“It’s not… I have to trust you, Azula,” Katara sighed, “but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the things you’ve done to me.”

* * *

Staring at the dragon in front of her, Katara knew Azula was right. She hadn’t put enough effort into it. The end result looked bland and unfinished next to the detailed cherry blossoms Azula was touching up with a small brush. 

“Azula?” Katara asked sheepishly, setting down her paintbrush. 

“Hm?”

Azula chewed on her lip in concentration as she worked.

“My dragon sucks.”

Her head shot up when she heard the disappointment in Katara’s voice. It was an oddly attentive reaction, but Katara was too busy feeling bad about her work to notice.

“It’s not that bad,” Azula said in an attempt at being reassuring. “It’s just… a little boring.”

“Yours is… nice.”

Once again, Azula had managed to show her up. It was a never-ending battle between the two. Both second children of their country’s leaders, the two were constantly being compared by those around them. One magazine had called Katara a cheap imitation of the Fire Nation’s princess. The words rang in her ears as she looked at both of their pieces.

Going to the wedding with Azula was a relief in some ways. They were less likely to be pitted against each other if they were a unit. For possibly the first time since she’d met Azula, Katara wouldn’t have to avoid things she liked for fear of seeming too similar. Unfortunately, that freedom wasn’t enough to silence the insecurities borne from years of comparison.

“You just need more paint,” Azula rolled her eyes. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

Grabbing Katara’s paint dish, Azula got up and headed for the door without waiting to see if Katara was following. Katara got up with a sigh. As much as she would never admit it, sometimes she secretly enjoyed being bossed around by Azula.

The number of choices at the paint station immediately overwhelmed Katara. There were so many options, and she didn’t know how to narrow down her favorites. That was why she initially settled on just a color for the body and stomach.

“I don’t know,” Katara stared at the bottle of paint in her hand. “Maybe blue is better?”

“Do you ever not second guess yourself?” Azula groaned. “You were doing fine! That brown will mix nicely with the green you have.”

“But—”

“Katara! Usually the first decision you make is the right one. But you don’t trust your gut so then you wind up doing something that makes you miserable.”

Katara wasn’t sure they were still talking about her paint choices, but she didn’t know what else Azula could mean. 

“So I just mix them together?”

“Pretty much,” Azula stepped closer to look at the paints on Katara’s plate. “You just start with the brown on the tail or wings or wherever, and then blend it with green as you go so it looks like an ombre.”

Every time they stood together, Katara’s senses went wild. It was a concerning development. She had no idea if it was a new feeling, which added to her concern. For years the two had gone out of the way to avoid being around each other unless it was unavoidable. Katara didn’t know how she was going to make it through a week like this.

“Will you help me with the details? Since you’re better with the small brushes.”

It was an unintentional compliment, but Azula was too busy eavesdropping on a couple at a nearby table to notice Katara’s embarrassment.

“All this coverage over the royal wedding!” The man at the table exclaimed to the woman next to him. “Honestly, who gives a fuck?”

“I think—”

He interrupted his companion before she could give a complete answer.

“She’s getting married, for fuck’s sake! But every picture you see her in, the miserable cunt’s frowning.”

Katara’s heart stopped. From Azula’s reaction, she had also guessed he was talking about Mai. This was very bad. She watched in horror as Azula approached the table.

“Hi there,” Azula smiled sweetly. “What are you painting?”

“Uh—”

She picked up the mug in front of him without waiting for an answer.

“How cute.”  
  
Azula turned the mug in her hand, stiletto nails scraping small amounts of paint off the sides. Splattered with an array of mismatching colors, the mug was far from cute. But it had clearly taken some amount of effort. The man watched in outraged silence, making no effort to retrieve his piece from the strange woman who'd just approached their table.

“Do you want a look, dear?” She held the mug out to Katara.

There was a quiet rage burning in Azula’s eyes. One Katara had only been on the receiving end of twice. Looking at Azula’s outstretched hand, she knew what was about to happen.

“Of course,” she smiled at Azula, eyes fixed on hers as the ceramic piece changed hands.

A shriek filled the air as the mug shattered. Katara had made no effort to grasp the man’s work, instead letting it pass from her palm to the cement floor. The look of delight Azula gave her made Katara’s knees weak.

“Oh no!” Azula cried, making no effort to disguise her glee.

“You _bitch_!” The man jumped out of his seat. He turned to June, who was reading at her desk as if nothing happened. “Aren’t you going to do anything?”

Without looking up, June motioned to a piece of paper taped to the wall. ‘BREAKS NOT REFUNDED’ was written in large marker.

“But I didn’t break it!”

The woman sitting with him stood up, tugging gently at his elbow. She’d noticed something he was too enraged to see: Azula’s stance changed when he got out of his seat. Although her hands were still at her side, she was ready to strike the minute he stepped toward her.

“It’s okay. We still have my vase.”

Her touch cut his rampage short. Looking from Katara and Azula to June, he realized the odds were against him. This wasn’t a fight that could be won.

“Whatever,” he turned away from them. “It’s not too late to try to catch a movie.”

“But my vase—”

Ignoring his companion’s protest, he walked out the front door. The tension in the room evaporated as they watched the pair make their way through the parking lot.

“Azula—”

“That was brilliant,” Azula stepped toward Katara as if she wanted to embrace her, then thought better of it.

“That was so bad,” Katara looked down at the floor with a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

* * *

Her heart was still pounding when they returned to their private workroom. There was something cathartic about being to act out in public. It was a freedom she hadn’t known in years.   
“You can paint mine while I do those bits you wanted for yours,” Azula said as she sat in front of Katara’s ceramic.

Sitting down in front of Azula’s piece, Katara couldn’t help but feel reluctant. There was no way she could do anything to improve it.

“What if I ruin it, though?”

Azula waved away her concerns.

“Do what you want. It’s not like you can really ruin it. June lets me smash them in the alleyway when I’m done.”

“Wait a minute,” Katara stared at Azula, “you’re putting all this effort into it… just to break it?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Azula replied as she used a small paintbrush to fill in the dragon’s eyes.

“Why?”

Azula took a break from painting to consider Katara’s query.

“I don’t care about the outcome. That adds too much pressure. This way I can just enjoy what I make without worrying about if the kiln will ruin it.”

“But what if it looks better after?”

Azula scoffed.

“And what if it looks worse?”

Katara struggled to disguise her sadness. She and Zuko were constantly having similar conversations when they dated. The compulsion to avoid failure haunted the siblings, and Katara was pretty sure she knew where it came from.

“Well we’ve worked on both of these together now, so if you don’t like the way it looks just blame me.”

“Katara—”

“You asked me to give this place a chance,” Katara interrupted with a small pout. “Now it’s your turn to try something.”

They stared at each other, Katara making increasingly large puppy eyes at Azula. When she broke Katara’s gaze with a frown, she was sure she’d lost the battle of wills.

“Fine,” Azula groaned. “But _only_ because you actually dressed up for our date.”

Katara blinked, taken aback by Azula’s agreement and not quite sure what she meant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of Act 1! Next chapter: Azula and Katara arrive on Ember Island and the fun really begins.


	6. The Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and Azula's fake relationship starts off with turbulence and paternal meddling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains descriptions of nausea and carsickness. If this is something you're extremely sensitive to, after the first scene is over press CTRL + F and type "Katara stretched" into the search bar

“And you’re sure this is a good idea?”

Sokka sat at the foot of Katara’s bed, eating cold leftovers as she finished packing. When he offered to help, she assumed it would entail more than clearing her fridge of its perishables.

“Sneakers on a plane is pretty standard, Sokka.”

Ignoring his unamused stare, she continued filling her cosmetics case with the last of her skincare products. 

“Is pretending to date your ex’s sister also standard?” Her brother asked through a mouthful of food.

Katara glared at him in the reflection of her vanity mirror.

“See, this is why I wasn’t going to tell you.”

Suki and Toph had accepted her new fake relationship almost too easily. Sokka, on the other hand, had been immediately skeptical that she would willingly have anything to do with Azula. When he made accusations of blackmail and threatened to intervene, Katara caved and told him what was really going on. 

“I’m just saying that’s a lot of effort you’re putting into an airport outfit for your fake girlfriend…”

Since the revelation, Sokka had been intent on giving Katara a hard time for her decision to work with Azula. She’d been allowing the jabs because she understood that he was hurt that she tried hiding things from him, but it was starting to get old. His teasing was treading too close to truths that Katara was desperately trying to shut out of her thoughts.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She walked over to her closet so her brother couldn’t see the blush spreading across her face.

“Isn’t there a slit in the side of the dress you’re wearing?”

The question was met with silence. He was right. Her airport outfit had been decided on weeks before the trip. It was a loose maxi dress that she knew would be comfortable on the plane, but the high slit that exposed her thigh when she sat _had_ been a deciding factor.

“See!” Sokka bounced off the bed, brandishing a fork at her.

“So maybe I’m a tease,” Katara faced her brother defensively. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s means you’re playing a dangerous game.”

Katara rolled her eyes. She knew her brother’s dating history. 

“At the end of the day, she’s still a royal brat from possibly the worst family in the world.”

“Sounds like she’s exactly your type.”  
  
The way he grinned when he said it only frustrated Katara more. It was the same look Suki had given her when she invited her over to talk about her new travel plans.

“Sokka—”

“Oh! Before I forget,” Sokka reached into his pocket, eager to change the subject. There was only so much ribbing Katara could stand before it turned into a full-blown argument. “I got this for you.”

He held out a crumpled piece of paper.

“Wow, trash,” Katara took the paper from his outstretched hand. “ _Thanks_.”

“It’s a return ticket. Just in case—”

“You didn’t need to do this, Sokka,” she frowned at the ticket as she read it.

“I don’t trust them. Not after…” his voice trailed off as they looked at each other. “Anyways, this way you don’t have to worry about getting stuck there if something goes wrong.”

Instead of responding, Katara wrapped her arms around her brother. It was good to know someone was looking out for her. She had her concerns about staying with Azula for a week, and having an escape route would at least help keep her from panicking.

“I guess this makes up for you eating all my food,” Katara smiled, tearing up slightly.

“Knock it off!” Sokka cried when he saw her tears. “You’re going to be all puffy when you see your girlfriend!”

* * *

With all the time Katara spent at home, she’d forgotten how much she hated flying. Her skin was dry. Her mouth was dry. The inside of her eyelids was dry.

“That was probably the worst flight I’ve ever been on,” Katara groaned as she stepped onto the asphalt.

“I’m sorry,” Azula reached out a hand for Katara to steady herself, “I should have known he would pull something like that.”

When Azula and Katara arrived at the royal family’s private airfield, they discovered that Ozai, Zuko, and Mai had left on an earlier flight. The pair was then directed to a small, uncomfortable charter plane that Ozai had reserved for them. Katara wasn’t sure the privacy was worth the surprising amount of turbulence in their three-hour flight.

“At least the car looks nice,” Katara smiled weakly.

At the end of the tarmac sat a car with blacked-out windows that would take them to the royal family’s vacation home. It was more than a little ominous-looking, but after their flight, Katara was thrilled to get out of the midday sun.

“Give me your cardigan. I’ll hold it.”

The island was known for its pleasant temperatures in the spring, but the heat radiating from the gravel didn’t seem to have gotten that memo. Going from the frigid airplane cabin to the sweltering airfield hadn’t given Katara any time to adjust. 

“I like your… slippers,” Katara said softly, trying to find something to focus on between waves of nausea. 

Azula’s airport outfit was almost annoyingly curated. With her sheepskin sandals and a ruby red tee tucked into the bottom of a pair of oddly chic black sweatpants, she resembled a model pretending to be at an airport. Katara wondered if she was wearing shapewear or if Azula’s figure naturally looked like that.

“You did a pretty good job looking paparazzi-ready, too.”

Her hand rested on Katara’s lower back as they approached the car.

“Hm?”

“You dressed like that in case anyone tried to sneak pictures, right? It looks good.”

“Oh, yeah I—” Katara tripped on a small clump of debris, too surprised by Azula’s unintentional compliment to notice the bits of rubber in her path.

“Careful!” Azula grasped Katara’s waist in an attempt at steadying her. If anything the contact made Katara more nauseous. Her stomach couldn’t handle airsickness _and_ butterflies.

They continued their path to the car in silence. Katara was keenly aware of the hand at her waist as they walked. Azula didn’t seem to realize she was still holding her until they reached the open back door of the car. She let go with a frown and hurried into the back of the car before Katara had a chance to thank her.

Riding in the car was an improvement, but not by much. It was a nice car. Nicer than the airplane. But the space was cramped, and Katara struggled to get comfortable. 

“Do you want to lay down?” Azula asked softly. Katara was sure she was being nice out of guilt. “It’ll be about an hour before we get there.”

“There’s not really much room.”

Azula took Katara’s discarded cardigan and bundled it up on her lap.

“It’s fine.”

“Azula…” Katara said reluctantly.

“Just lay down,” Azula rolled her eyes. “The last thing either of us needs is to start this vacation off with you puking in an enclosed space.”

Having no rebuttal, she loosened the seatbelt around her waist and rested her head on Azula’s lap. It was almost too comfortable. The feeling of Azula stroking the damp hair away from Katara’s neck nearly made her sickness worth it.

“Azula!” Katara opened her eyes with a yelp as a cold water bottle was pressed against the back of her neck.

Azula stopped her from sitting up.

“Shh,” she cooed as if soothing a cranky toddler, “it helps.”

“Well, you could have warned me first!” Katara frowned, closing her eyes again.

Azula laughed in response and told the driver to turn up the air conditioning.

* * *

She spent the rest of the car ride pretending to sleep on Azula’s lap. The road to the vacation home was too bumpy for Katara to fully relax, but she wanted to make the most of the small moment of comfort. Every so often Azula would brush a clump of hair out of Katara’s face. She wondered if Azula knew she was awake.

“Katara,” a gentle hand rested above her elbow, “we’re here.”

There was an uncharacteristic softness in Azula’s voice that made her stomach turn. Or maybe she was still nauseous.

“Ugh.”

Katara stretched as she sat up. Wordlessly, Azula offered her cardigan back. Getting out of the car was a huge relief. The worst of the day was over.

Legs unsteady beneath her, she marveled at where they would be staying as she leaned on the side of the car for support. In all honesty, she was expecting something bigger and more expensive looking. This was more of a large cottage than a villa. It was still nice, but not nearly the level of opulence the Fire Lord was known for.

“It’s not the main house,” Azula explained when she caught Katara’s gaze. “My mother had it built when Zuko and I were kids. She said it was for when she needed a vacation from my father’s idea of a vacation.”

There was a bitterness in her voice that suggested she wasn’t thrilled to be staying there, but Katara was too worn out to press the issue. Things had been peaceful between them so far. She didn’t want to start the trip off any worse than it was already going.

Despite the cottage’s cozy decor, the house smelled almost clinically clean. Katara frowned. It was a very strong smell to deal with when she was already feeling unwell.

“What the fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

“Yeah, sorry.” Azula walked up beside her. “Cleaning so soon before we arrived when we were on such a shitty flight was _definitely_ premeditated.”

Katara groaned as she made her way to the couch in the living room.

“I’ll just be here, trying to recover from your dad’s psychological warfare, if you need anything.”

Curling up on the seat of the couch, she closed her eyes. 

“We still have the family dinner he wanted us to go to this evening,” Azula said, following Katara to the living room.

“Just tell them we can’t make it to dinner because I’m not feeling well,” Katara frowned as she tried to preserve what little relaxation she could find on the Fire Lord’s furniture.

“Absolutely not,” Azula shook her head. “If anyone asks, we had a great time.”

“Whyyy?” Katara groaned as she stretched.

“This is how you play the game. You can’t let him know when his stupid little tricks work.”

Being part of Azula’s family sounded exhausting. Everything seemed to be a premeditated strategy to work around Ozai’s passive-aggressive behavior. She wondered if Azula ever did anything without first having to weigh how her father would react to it.

“Is it going to be like this the entire time?”

“Not once they start getting busy with the wedding.”

Her response wasn’t the reassuring answer Katara had been hoping for. She was, in a way, relieved to be traveling with Azula. If this was how Ozai treated his children, she would have been much worse off trying to make it through the wedding on her own.

“Azula?”

“Yeah?” 

She leaned over the edge of the couch as she typed a message on her phone. Looking up at Azula was more than Katara’s heart could handle right now.

“Your dad is really fucking annoying,” she sighed, closing her eyes.

“Yeah…”

It wasn’t long before Katara drifted off to sleep. She’d nodded off for a few minutes here and there on the car ride over, but it was a struggle to get comfortable. Finally being able to rest without the ground moving beneath her was the highlight of Katara’s day. 

* * *

The smell of food woke Katara from her nap. She was still hungry and dehydrated but overall felt much better. Light from the setting sun shone through the living room windows.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Yep!” Azula called from down the hall. “Pizza and chocolate mousse from the Golden Phoenix.”

Rolling off the couch, Katara headed to the kitchen adjacent to the living room. She marveled at the cottage’s decor as she walked. It was as if someone had given her grandma an unlimited budget to decorate a vacation home. She wondered if it had been redecorated in the decade since Zuko and Azula’s mom passed.

“They’re my favorite,” Katara yelled across the house.

Azula entered the kitchen, blatantly satisfied with herself.

“I know.”

“What?”

She couldn’t remember ever discussing food with Azula.

“I mean… That is—” Azula stammered as she tried to explain herself. “Zuko talked about it. That year he took you here for your birthday.”

“Oh… Okay.”

A few months after they started dating, she and Zuko had taken a weekend trip to Ember Island for her birthday. Back when he was still trying to impress her with grand gestures. Her birthday dinner had been at the Golden Phoenix, but she wasn’t sure why Zuko mentioned it to his sister. Or why Azula remembered it five years later.

“After you eat you can unpack in whatever guest room you want to stay in.”

Katara set down the slice of pizza she was about to bite into.

“Isn’t there a main bedroom?”

“There is,” Azula grinned, “but I unpacked while you were sleeping. _That_ is my room.”

“So that’s why you were being so nice,” Katara laughed. “You fucking _asshole_.”

“All’s fair in love and vacation bedrooms,” Azula shrugged.

“Love and— wait.”

“What is it?”

“Where are my bags?”

The pair stared at each other, equally dumbfounded. Both of them had been too preoccupied with Katara’s sickness to really think about their luggage. Katara couldn’t remember anyone loading either of their bags into the car.

“Mine were in the trunk,” Azula frowned. “I figured yours didn’t fit and were going to be delivered later.”

“Well, that _obviously_ didn’t happen.”

It was too much for Katara to deal with. She felt about ready to cry. After the day she’d had, she wanted nothing more than to shower and crawl into bed in her pajamas. And now she couldn’t even do that.

“I hate this fucking family,” Azula seethed. 

“You’re not saying _he_ …”

“What do you think?”

Katara considered the possibility that the Fire Lord arranged to have her luggage stolen. After everything he’d put them through today, she couldn’t discount the theory. She was grateful that Sokka had suggested carrying the ticket in her purse instead of with her bags.

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Azula frowned, taking out her phone. “Just get some food in your system. I’ll try to figure it out.”

“I’m not really that hungry.”

“Bullshit! It’s your favorite food and you haven’t had anything since we got on the plane. You need to eat.”

She wasn’t sure how she was going to make it through a week of Azula telling her what to do without leaving the island extremely sexually frustrated. With a small frown, she returned to the pizza she was eating before her conversation with Azula. The pizza was delicious and Azula was right; she was starving.

* * *

Dinner consisted of eating alone while Azula made multiple phone calls that seemed to involve a lot of yelling. Her frustration with her father must have been pretty bad if she was actually on Katara’s side. Katara sighed as she bit into a piece of cake that would have been better if it was still warm. She wondered if she could trade Sokka’s return ticket for a flight before the wedding.

“Okay,” Azula entered the kitchen with a weary sigh, “Your luggage isn’t gone. But you probably won’t get it before tomorrow afternoon.”

“Do you know wh—”

“Don’t expect a logical reason.”

“Oh…”

Azula fidgeted with her phone as she tried to think of something to say.

“You need stuff for tonight, right? Like a toothbrush and stuff.”

Katara nodded, chewing on her lower lip. Panic began to rise in her chest as the day’s trials began to settle in.

“And pajamas.” Her voice cracked when she spoke.

Every fear she had about going to the wedding was flooding her thoughts. If Ozai was trying this hard to make her miserable, this could easily be the worst week of her life. A tear rolled down her cheek. Then another one. She was too exhausted to be dealing with this bullshit.

“Oh, hey,” Azula stepped forward awkwardly, clearly not sure how to handle Katara’s sudden display of emotion. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“I just wanna take a shower. I’ve been in these clothes all day. I’m fucking _uncomfortable_. And I can’t even do anything about it because your dad’s a fucking jackass control freak who _apparently_ can just pay people to do whatever the _fuck_ he wants.”

More than feeling tired or sad, she was angry with Ozai. If she was the world’s worst girlfriend to Zuko, she could almost understand the weird retribution. But she was just a girl from an independent country who got cheated on by the Crown Prince of one of the largest nations in the world. Her only real flaw was not being Fire Nation nobility.

She was surprised to feel Azula’s arms around her but too overwhelmed to question the much-needed comfort. Burying her face in Azula’s neck, she continued to cry. One of Azula’s hands stroked the back of Katara’s head as they stood together in the middle of the kitchen.

“It’s rough,” Azula’s voice vibrated against Katara’s chest as she spoke. “But don’t worry. I made spa appointments for tomorrow. Just make it through tonight, then tomorrow you can spend the day relaxing.”

Katara stepped back so she could look Azula in the eye.

“Wh.. Really?”

With a nod Azula wiped a tear from Katara’s chin, both arms resting on Katara’s shoulders. She was suddenly aware of how intimate the moment was. Combined with the crying, it made her a bit lightheaded.

“Mhm,” Azula nodded, looking into Katara’s eyes. “We’ll be at the spa all afternoon, and then there’s a surprise in the evening.

“What kind of surprise?”

She didn’t mean to lean in when she said it, but that’s what happened. The mood was shifting rapidly, and she was stressed enough to welcome whatever distraction Azula might offer in the moment.

Azula retracted her arms and took a step back. A light pink blush burned on her cheeks.

“It’s a surprise. Anyways, you can use the shower attached to the main bedroom. It’s the nicest bathroom in the house.”

“But I don’t have—”

“You can use my body wash and stuff. It’s fine. And I guess I can loan you some pajamas since we’re pretty much the same size and all the stores are closed by now.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” 

So much of the trip’s costs were already being covered by Azula and her family. Katara didn’t want to feel like they were doing everything for her.

“Do we have a choice?” Azula shrugged. “Now go! Shower! I’ll see if I can find somewhere still open that’s selling toothbrushes because you _clearly_ —”

“Thanks, Azula,” Katara smiled before turning toward the bedroom.

* * *

The day’s stress melted away as Katara stood in the shower. Jets of water came at her from all angles, which was much more water than Katara was used to in a shower. It was almost disorienting.

Picking up the bottle of body wash Azula had loaned her, Katara gave it a curious sniff. She couldn’t help herself. Sure enough, it was the scent that haunted Katara in her dreams. Azula must have some sort of fragrance set.

Almost immediately she was pushed for her curiosity. Now she was exhausted, sore, and _wet_. Squeezing a small amount of the liquid out into her palm, she stared at it for a moment before applying it to a washcloth. She struggled not to imagine Azula using the product naked in the shower at home.

It had been over a month since the kiss, but Katara still hadn’t recovered. Interactions they’d had for years were now laced with tension. Sometimes just looking in Azula’s eyes was enough to knock her feet out from under her. There was no respite from the way Azula occupied Moree and more of her thoughts.

Curiosity was the driving cause, she’d decided. It wasn’t Azula herself, but the taboo of something forbidden. Nothing would ever happen between them. That fact only made Azula more enticing. When she’d agreed to go on the trip with Azula, she’d assumed she would be over it by now.

Katara sighed as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. Something was going to have to change. She couldn’t spend the entire week nearly wetting herself every time Azula touched her. That much masturbation was sure to have her clit screaming at the slightest touch.

Of course, the pajamas Azula loaned Katara were nothing short of pure silk. It was comfortable but oddly slippery. A small step toward making up for how badly she felt during the rest of the day.

“You didn’t have anything a bit more… casual?” Katara asked when she stepped out of the bathroom to reveal her new look.

“Of course not,” Azula answered from inside her closet as she continued organizing her things. “I don’t _do_ casual.”

“No, I suppose you don’t.” 

When Azula stepped into the room, neither knew what to say. Azula looked surprised to see her clothes on Katara, who regretted deciding against rubbing her frustrations out in the shower. It was her first time seeing Azula with her hair down, and her body could barely handle the way it was making her feel.

“Well, it looks like everything fits.”

“Yeah…” Katara struggled to think over the way her heart was pounding. “So I’m, uh, gonna take my new _toothbrush_ and… go… use it.”

Rushing out of the door before Azula could reply to her ridiculous declaration, Katara paused when she was finally free of distraction. Her anxiety began to rise as she stood alone in the dark hallway. She hadn’t stayed anywhere new since here ordeal with the tabloids and hadn’t accounted for the pervasive fear that saturated her life.

“Azula?” Katara called quietly, popping her head back into the room.

She didn’t look surprised to see Katara back in her room.

“Did you forget your toothbrush?”

“No, I—” she paused and looked at her empty hands. “Well yes, but actually I…”

“Spit it out, Katara,” Azula sighed as she walked over to her bed. “I’ve had a long day too, without half as many naps as you managed to work in.”

Katara stepped timidly into the room.

“I’m scared to sleep in a room by myself.”

The sentence rushed from her mouth without any pauses between words. It took Azula a moment to parse what Katara had said.

“But… you live by yourself?”

Katara was worried that Azula would be annoyed or judgmental, but more than anything she looked amused.

“It’s a two-story house,” Katara fixed her eyes on the bedroom carpet, embarrassed to have to admit the depths of her agoraphobia to Azula. “It’s harder… photographers.”

Shortly after her breakup, she’d caught members of the paparazzi sneaking around outside her house in the dead of the night hoping to catch pictures of her with an imaginary new lover. She quickly sold what had once been her sanctuary in favor of a plain-looking two-story house in the hopes it would offer her more privacy. 

When Azula didn’t immediately respond Katara looked up to try to gauge her reaction. To her surprise, it almost looked like Azula was blinking back tears.

“Fucking scum.” The venom in Azula’s voice startled Katara. She paused as she searched for a solution. “I mean… this is a King-sized bed. And if you don’t take up too much space I _guess_ …”

“You’re kidding.”

At best Katara had expected Azula to tell he she could put a mattress on the bedroom floor. More than likely, though, she assumed Azula would tell her to deal with it and call her if something happened. Sleeping in the same bed, though not an unwelcome thought, was not an offer she thought she would ever receive.

“You can spend all night freaking out by yourself if that’s what you have your heart set on,” Azula shrugged. “But I’m going to bed. So get in while you have the chance.”

Katara didn’t need any further invitation. Crawling under the sheets as Azula turned out the lights, she marveled at the day she’d had. Somehow, for whatever reason, Azula had salvaged what would have otherwise been a terrible time. She couldn’t decide if she was grateful or annoyed.

“Thank you,” Katara whispered into the darkness.

“You better not snore.”

She smiled to herself. The mattress was large enough that she barely felt Azula in the bed. A small, lonely part of her wanted to reach her hand out across the sheets to find Azula’s. Maybe Sokka was right. Nothing good was going to come from the way she felt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With every hour that passes, Katara gets closer to contemplating regicide. Luckily, her spa visit will definitely be very relaxing and not at all fraught with sexual tension or anything.
> 
> Side note: would a California King bed be a Phoenix King in ATLA?
> 
> For updates about this fic and other projects, you can follow both my twitter and tumblr @ cumkills


	7. Love Languages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first morning together is nothing short of romantic, but neither of them notice.

Azula had already gotten out of bed when Katara woke up the next morning. She stretched, appreciating what little privacy she would have while they were together. Her loaned pajamas still smelled faintly like Azula, which she enjoyed more than she cared to admit. Catching the small embers of happiness growing in her chest, she got out of bed before she let the moment get to her.

Surviving the week meant not letting herself enjoy this too much. After all, they were here on business. Sort of. Whatever weird hatefuck feelings she had about Azula, she was going to have to reign it in. Things were complicated enough as it was.

In the kitchen, Azula was already fixing breakfast. Well, someone’s breakfast at least. The amount of food she was making looked a bit light for two people.

“What’re ya doing?” Katara yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Making myself some eggs,” Azula answered without looking up. It felt like she was upset with her, even though nothing had happened to be upset about this early on.

“Oh…”

She didn’t know why she was disappointed. Of course, Azula wasn’t making breakfast for both of them. That wasn’t something Azula would do.

“There’s cinnamon rolls in the fridge. And some other stuff. I sent a shopper out this morning while you were sleeping.”

Cinnamon rolls. Azula didn’t understand the small bit of comfort she’d provided Katara, but in that moment it meant the world. Trapped on an island with the Fire Lord’s family and no luggage, it was nice to have that subtle reminder of her mother.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Katara asked as she rooted through the fridge for food.

Her question was met with the scrape of a spatula against the pan as Azula flipped her scrambled eggs.

“We have like an hour and a half until the spa appointment, which will take up most of the afternoon. Hopefully your bags will be back by then so I don’t have to hunt anyone down. Then in the evening I made reservations for a restaurant in town.”

“Like… dinner reservations? Is the rest of your family gonna be there too? Because—”

“No, it’s just us,” Azula shook her head with a frown. “The less time I spend with them, the better. Besides, my father does things on his terms or not at all.”

The two of them. Attending dinner together. At a restaurant that took reservations. It was almost like going on an actual date. Which, of course, was very normal for two people who were supposed to be seeing each other.

“So I get an entire day free of Zuko or Mai?”

She hoped she didn’t sound too relieved. Azula and Mai were friends, after all.

“Yup. As long as we don’t talk about them.” Azula popped a small amount of egg into her mouth from the pan.

They were quiet for a moment. Katara couldn’t tell if Azula meant something by that, or was saying it as a matter of fact. Overall, however, their plans were surprisingly not horrible sounding.

“Oh, also…” Azula sounded nervous when she spoke again, as if she wasn’t sure how to break whatever news she had to Katara. “Some stuff arrived for you. It’s in the living room.”

When Katara went to see what Azula was talking about, she was shocked to see multiple outfits laid out on the coffee table. The dark color palette was unlike anything Katara ever wore. She had no idea what Azula was talking about.

“What do you mean these arrived for me?” She asked when Azula joined her, plate of eggs in hand.

“They’re yours,” she answered with her mouth full.

“No, they’re not. I don’t own anything like this.”

Azula gave an exasperated sigh, small bits of egg flying onto the carpet from her mouth.  
  
“Did you think I sent someone out just to get pastries? They’re so you have something to wear when we go out today. Pick what you like, and if there’s anything that you don’t want I’ll have it returned.”

Katara didn’t know what to say. Some part of her was skeptical of Azula’s sudden generosity. Maybe the seam of whatever pants she chose would coincidentally rip as she got out of the car. Or the sweater would start unraveling as the walked through the parking lot.

Feeling the cuff of the nearest sweater, however, she was surprised to realize the quality of the yarn. It was softer than the acrylic blend she usually picked up at thrift shops. She almost felt guilty accepting something that clearly cost a lot of money.

“Azula, this is too expensive. I can’t—”

“My father is going to go out of his way to be a nuisance on this trip. The best way to shut him up is to spend as extravagantly as we can. He’ll watch his mouth if there’s a price tag attached.”

Once more, Azula’s kindness was nothing more than dysfunctional family pettiness. But who was Katara to turn down an opportunity like this? No extravagant bill could make up for what the past year had cost her.

She was Azula’s pawn to get back at Ozai. In a way, it frustrated Katara. The clothes. The spa day. Their dinner plans. None of it was genuine. Things that she might have found touching under different circumstances were reduced to a game that Katara didn’t know how to play.

The clothes were nice, though. Azula had replaced the light blue Katara tended to prefer with a dark navy and blues so desaturated they were almost grey. It gave the outfits an edgy look that Katara never would have dared try on her own. As offended as she was, she couldn’t take her eyes off them.  
  
“Well, I _do_ need something to wear,” Katara muttered, running her fingers over an oversized sweater was an attractively dull seafoam green.

“Just try some of it on at least,” Azula said with a playful shoulder bump. “Unless you’d rather go naked? Which is fine, but—”

“Okay! I’ll see how they fit!”

* * *

In the end, Katara settled for the sweater and a pair of navy leggings so dark they were almost black and so soft she almost forgot she was wearing them. The amount of thought Azula put into her comfort might have been touching if it wasn’t for the fact that the clothes were probably more expensive because they were so comfortable.

“The car’s here!” Katara called from the doorway.

Azula had insisted on straightening her hair despite their time limit and was still going when they’d received a call that their chauffeur was on his way.

“On my way!” Came Azula’s distant cry from the bathroom.

When she emerged, her hair was in its signature high bun. Katara wasn’t sure why she bothered straightening her hair just to wear it up, especially since it would probably get messed up at the spa. But there was no use in arguing.

Before they headed out the door, Azula pulled Katara to the side so that the driver couldn’t see them talking from the driveway.

“One last thing,” Azula said with a deep breath. She sounded fairly stressed for someone about to leave for the spa. “Whenever we go out, you have to assume anyone who sees us together can and will report back to my father. The driver. Tourists in the streets. The staff at the spa. We have to keep up the act the entire time because knowing him he absolutely is bribing people to spy on us.”

Katara gave an irritated sigh. She understood why Azula was worried, but this was the same conversation they’d had on their fake date. It stung that Azula thought she didn’t understand the gravity of the moment.

“ _Relax_ , Azula. Have a little faith in me.”

“I do, I just—”

“I know what’s at stake.” Katara took Azula’s hand in hers in preparation of stepping outside and gave it a small squeeze of reassurance.

She assumed Azula would withdraw her hand, but was surprised when she instead laced their fingers together and gave Katara a grateful smile. The small moment of vulnerability made Katara’s head swim. Despite her confident facade, Azula was just as nervous as she was.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her racing heart. Hopefully Azula was too nervous herself to notice the sweat gathering on Katara’s palm. She tried to convince herself the feeling was simply nerves, knowing there was no truth to the lies she told herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Azula was actually just too worried about fucking up Katara's breakfast to cook for her too.
> 
> On a serious note: I've gotten a sudden uptick of comments on multiple fics asking for/demanding updates. Most of you don't know this, but I'm self-employed by day. And it honestly kinda sucks to have a fic with nearly 200 subs when my P*****n has 5 supporters.
> 
> This is something I'm doing for free. Because it's fun. Being rushed to churn out more of a free work when it means taking time away from other projects is honestly really stressful. At the end of the day, I write fics because it's a fun exercise, but if it starts feeling like a chore I'm just gonna stop posting here altogether because I have... other things to do.
> 
> I'm really happy that people are enjoying my writing. But pleaseeee stop treating me like a machine who exists to churn out free stuff. I'm living in America during a pandemic. I have other shit to deal with.
> 
> If you want to know how a chapter is going or are genuinely concerned about a fic being abandoned, you're welcome to shoot me an ask on tumblr @ cumkills. Just please don't forget that fic writers have lives outside of what they post here.


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